To Cherish and To Hold (Love of a Rockstar #1.5) Read Online Free Page B

watched as a cocktail of regret and sadness flashed across Camille’s face. But it seemed, like me, she also didn’t know what words to utter that would fix the gaping hole between us. Her lips closed and she settled for a sharp nod instead.
    “Bye.”
    She skittered out of the woman’s restroom, widening the gap into a chasm.

T he groupies glanced over with mild disdain as my car pulled into the driveway. They were wrapped in MY blankets sipping tea out of MY mugs. Irritation bubbled dangerously close to the surface but I quickly shoved it back down. To them, I was the reason their idol had committed career suicide. I would hate me too. Luke met me halfway up the front steps, looking devilishly handsome in a periwinkle blue sweater. Three-day-old stubble dotted his cheeks. His mouth brushed mine, my favorite kind of hello. Although we had an audience, a desire to deepen the embrace overcame politeness. Before I could, he broke away.
    “What happened to you?” Luke asked, concern tingeing his tone. “You were gone for hours.”
    “Hours? You must really love me. It’s been an hour, tops.”
    The concern morphed into uneasiness. “It’s been two hours, Marlene and….” He looked toward the car. “There aren’t any groceries in your car.”
    Five and half years ago, Luke had found out he would be a father with a pepperoni pizza. The pepperonis spelled “Congrats Papa” on top of the pie. I wanted to continue that tradition but with a fresh unique spin.
    Patting his cheek affectionately, my lips split into a smile. “You’re hot when you play detective. Maybe we can bring that into the bedroom.”
    “Marlene….”
    “What?”
    His eyebrows rose, waiting.
    If you can’t distract them with the promise of sex, lie. “The grocery store didn’t sell the apples I wanted. They’re a special heirloom variety that doesn’t brown when exposed to air. So I went to five different places—nope, nobody sells them!” My arm hooked through his as we walked up the steps. “Isn’t that crazy?”
    “Crazy,” he murmured.
    “Right? I’ll have to do some research online.”
    My bullshit rarely passed Luke’s notice but he also knew when to give it a free pass. Today was one of those times. I hung my jacket on the coat rack and went into the kitchen. Baking ingredients littered the counters. I ignored the mess and set my sights on Nil. She sat at the dining room table with a blue crayon clutched in her fist. Scribbles decorated a blank piece of paper.
    I squatted next to her. “What are you drawing?”
    “A horse.”
    “A horse, huh? I thought you hated horses.”
    “No. I hate ponies. You can’t trust anything that small.”
    The phrases she caught from her father were proof at how open her ears and eyes were. Nil was like a sponge, absorbing the sights, sounds, and smells around her. I couldn’t wait to witness how she interacted with her baby brother or sister. Nil exchanged her blue crayon for a red one and her mouth scrunched to the side in concentration. I kissed the top of her head and began to work on the pies. Apple, pecan, buttermilk, and my grandmother’s famous double chocolate chiffon were on the agenda. First, the pie dough needed a few tweaks. Cutting butter into the all-purpose flour, Nil yanked a stepstool up to the counter and asked to help.
    “Are you done coloring?” I asked.
    “I got bored.” She peeked into the mixing bowl. “Are you making cookies?”
    “Pie crust. Do you want to learn?”
    A light clicked on in Nil’s eyes as she nodded her head. We’d baked together on occasion but her ADD tendencies usually meant she would wander off halfway through the recipe. Lately though, I noticed her focus stayed centered if she was given hands-on tasks.
    I passed her the buttermilk then pointed to the measuring cups. “One cup, please.”
    Nil gently poured the liquid into the glass container. “Like that?”
    “Perfect.”
    We added the liquid to the dry ingredients together.